


152 Days of July

by AlphaStarr



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaStarr/pseuds/AlphaStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of King Garon, the royal family cannot afford to suffer the disapproval of the noble court-- not now, when their foes are within Nohr itself, a Nohr that perches precariously on the brink of a civil war. (And within the royal family itself, only Leo ever approved of their middle brother's less-than-pristine dalliance with a certain outlaw.)</p><p>Post-Conquest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	152 Days of July

**Author's Note:**

> one-part fic. dialogue practice with as little prose as possible. please forgive the mess.
> 
> avoid reading, if possible.
> 
> august is the name of [@sheepskin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepskin)'s M!MU, who frankly deserves better than this suffering. if you seek corrins, you are in the wrong place.

"Lord August," Niles lowers his head, passing by in vacant halls. His boots, leather, soft-- they are silent against the stone floors of Castle Krakenberg, even when it is empty.

(The royal family is very rarely home all at the same time, and the summer of 1190 is no different.)

"Sir Niles," the hesitant reply, sibilant-- the middle prince of Nohr still sometimes lisps against his fanged teeth.

"What's this... having a joke at my expense, are we, _milord_?" said with a narrowed eye, a half smile. "How very cruel of you... pfft. I like it. But we both know that I'm no _sir_. There's no need for you to... _toy_ with me."

"You're Leo's retainer... that makes you at least the same rank as a knight," August frowns. "I think the least I can do is refer to you by the appropriate title. And besides... it seemed like the right thing to do. Since you... since you went through the trouble of using my title, too. After I said you didn't have to."

"You play a cruel, cruel game, Lord August, to be teasing me like this."

(Whether his sigh is genuine or not is anyone's guess.)

"I'm not teasing you... not really."

"Oho... extracting your vengeance on me, then?" Niles bites his lip. "I suppose it's true what they say, that going to war changes a man. That it makes him... _rougher_."

"It wasn't the war that changed me," August replies, insistent. A pause, and then, softly: "The peace did."

"I suppose, without the battles, you would have fewer ways of... releasing your tension," his laughter is grim. "Depraved of you, to be picking on a humble servant just doing his job. It's a good look for you, _milord_."

"Niles, stop," the words come out choked. A sob, cut off at its head, "This is horrible, and you know it. I still love you, Niles, with all of my heart. You can stop this right now, and--"

"My covenant is with Lord Leo, and orders are orders," he purses his lips. "Unless... you _do_ want a civil war. Another round of target practice wouldn't bother me too much... though Lord Leo might be upset."

"... you don't mean that. You're just... you're just trying to follow orders, and doing it the only way you know how, I know it. But... but... still, it hurts to hear it said in your voice. When you know that I want peace more than anything else!"

"I know you do. You want peace more than any of us lowly servants want to kill for you. You want peace more than you didn't want to fight the Hoshidans. You even want peace more than you want the citizens of Nohr to like you. Deep down, in that gooey, soft, saccharine heart of yours, you want peace more than anything," he takes aim. Fires: "You want it more than you want me."

August flinches, the words striking like an arrow true. "I don't have to give up one to save the other... not this time. Not. Not like this. If we just... do a few things to make the royal family popular again. Host an arena show, or install a new soup kitchen, or I'll... I'll..."

"You're... crying," Niles' bitter grin flickers. More softly, "Not as naïve as you used to be... you know it's a hopeless cause."

"I know," August presses his lips together, forces himself to weep almost-silent. "Nothing's going to make the royal family more popular overnight... nothing, except conquering another country for its wealth. Like Fath-- _King Garon_. And even now... if just _one more_ noble disapproves enough to withdraw their support..."

"Then you know the reasoning behind my orders." He barks out a laugh, miserable. "The noble court never approved of me... even as a lowly retainer. Nobody wants that to tarnish that _ever-so-popular_ image of the conqueror-prince who led Nohr to victory."

"That's not even true, I never wanted to conquer anything," the words come out a sob.

"Your crying face always _was_ your most beautiful," Niles sighs. "But in some sick, twisted way... I don't want to see it. I hate it... seeing you waste your tears on trash like me."

"If you don't like it, then don't look." When August wipes away his tears, they only seem to flow twice as freely. "Of course I would cry over..."

"Garbage? A waste of space? A stain upon your field of sight? Because you're a better man than I'll ever be. Maybe you can afford to be." Laughter, faintly hysterical. "And men who hurt you like this aren't worth your time. I'll see myself out, _Lord_ August. Before the maids decide to scrub me off the floor."

"No!" and August lashes out, quick, strong, his arms around Niles' waist. "No. Don't go. If you leave, I'll... I'll cry harder. I miss you, Niles... it's been so many months. Just a little longer. Stay."

"If you missed someone like me, you have to be sicker than I am," he exhales, heavy. At last, "We're alone out here, and you're holding me and crying. This is how ill rumors are born, you know."

"They're not rumors if they're true," August only hugs tighter.

Finally, "... your sitting room."

"Okay," August mumbles, and shuffles across the hall, into his private rooms. He glances back.

Niles follows.

August's sitting room is a simple affair, three mismatched loveseats and a coffee-table that looks like it might be more coffee than table, by now. (Perhaps that is Felicia's doing as much as it is August's.) An old piano against one wall, barely used. A torn armchair.

"You didn't get rid of it," Niles ventures, and sits down.

"How could I?" he settles across his lap, and like this, they could almost be at war again.

(They could almost be at peace.)

"It's ripped."

"I think it gives it character."

"Tsk, tsk... and what do the dignitaries say, when they visit and see this?"

"Usually not much," August pauses. Admits, "Sometimes they look like they're going to. Maybe they just think I'm eccentric. Or that it's a dragon thing."

"You could have it repaired." A moment. "Or replaced. A man of your station could afford that."

"Maybe I'm too attached to the memories," a sigh, as August's finger trails over the side of Niles' cheek. "Maybe I want everything to be just as it was... rips and tears and all."

Niles smirks, "It covers up the stains well, at least."

"You remember too, don't you?"

"Mmmm... I probably shouldn't. Not when I have orders to avoid... dalliances. Explicit orders."

"Hah... I know Leo's trying to look out for my reputation, but he _doesn't_ need to interfere with my marriage."

"Engagement," Niles corrects. Slyly adds, "And I've been told it's Nohrian tradition to protect the bride's _virginal assets_ until the wedding."

"If that's what this is supposed to be, he's about two years too late on that," an inelegant snort, dragons' smoke curling around his nostrils. "He's my brother, but that doesn't give him regency over my relationships."

"He's my liege... it was in the pact I signed," Niles shrugs. Laughing, "Try not to blame him too much... I think he feels responsible. Since he chose me for you, too."

"I hope you're not saying you were ordered to fall in love with me."

"I'm not _that_ easy." Then, abruptly, "You'd say you were named after the eighth month of the year... wouldn't you?"

"Well... to an extent. There was a Nohrian king named Augustus, and the month is named after him, so I always thought that I was, too... though." Reconsidering, "Probably, when I was born, nobody thought I would end up in Nohr at all. I guess, given my background... it would have had to be the month, in the end."

"There goes this story... about how there used to be ten moons in the yearly cycle."

"I've heard that one... about how King Augustus of Nohr, one of the early wielders of Brynhildr, added two moons to every year so the seasons would change with the moons," August recites.

"Ah... something like that. Wasn't really one for history. But were you ever told about the zeroth month?"

"Well, of course there's a zeroth month. Just as surely as the word 'gullible' is written on my ceiling."

"I suppose it's... a less common legend. The tale goes that there's a zeroth moon in the year. Neither moon nor sun for thirty days. They say people used to sleep through it... until the almighty mage king gave it a moon, and named it after himself." Niles snorts, "You can tell why Lord Leo made sure this was the _first_ legend I heard of." 

" _Leo_ told you that legend?"

"Nobody else was exactly _lining up_ to tell a street urchin fairytales."

A pause, and then, speaking softly: "I would."

"I think you and I would have... _more adult_ _things_ to do than read children's stories."

"Afterwards, then," August promises, quiet.

A moment, and Niles replies: "Afterwards."

"What happened next? ... To you, I mean."

"I didn't really... have a name before I met milord. No legal records. No birth certificate. I went by pseudonyms before. He took it upon himself to name me. Three guesses as to what."

"Niles," August's eyes widen. "As in... nil. The zeroth month, before King Augustus..."

"Before he named it for himself," Niles finishes. Then, adds, "There was a math lesson in here. A complicated one. Something about... zero and eight, and magical synergy. I might have paid more attention if I'd known..."

August, hurriedly, "It's a coincidence, I'm sure."

"You say that as if Lord Leo doesn't hold himself responsible for _coincidences_ ," says Niles dryly.

"I... well..." There is no arguing that. "Let's not talk about my brother anymore, Niles. I want to know about you. What you've been doing."

"The two topics are pretty much inseparable."

"I hope that's not your way of telling me you've been doing..."

"Who's being absurd now? I'm offended you would think me so faithless, my love. After all," and he punctuates it with a tiny kiss. "You were the one who brought the moon to my skies."

"Poetic is a good look for you," August smiles, and kisses him for real, becoming lost in that depth of his night.  

It is a little like a magic covenant, then, the way lips press soft against lips, the slow and playful flickers of breath dancing between them, humid. The castle does not cool easily, there in the summer, but that is all right, Niles thinks. Let them melt like this, against each other, let them taste of perspiration lingering on the upper lip, let them bite and nip and, with sharp tongues, draw blood. It has been too long since they last bore proof of affection.

"I missed this," August confesses, and kisses him again, tender and sweet.

Niles has, too, but says instead, "I can keep a secret if you can."

"Even from Leo?"

"... unless he perfects that mind-reading spell."

He laughs, soft, "I suppose that's fair."

"August," Niles tastes the name on his lips, stripped bare of all titles. He kisses him.

"Stay with me?" with a breathless voice.

But there is silence, then, hanging in the air as certainly as humidity. Eyes, red, bagged with unrest-- they question.

"One night," Niles offers, at last.

"What will you say if I ask you again tomorrow?"

"One night," Niles amends. "And one night more."

"Until the end of August?" he whispers, and hope, gentle hope, hangs in his eyes.

"Until the end of August," Niles promises, and knows it is a half-truth.

For though his hand is commanded by Lord Leo, his heart has always belonged to August, and its lazy air, and its heavy heat, and the man who shares its name. He will lie with him this month, and may not be able to refrain during the next, and may not even begin to fall out of love for an eternity, until the clocks and calendars all drive themselves to zero once more.

(But July is over, now, and that is enough. He prays the next month will be longer.)

He takes August's fingers in his, and relishes that they are both sticky with sweat.

**Author's Note:**

>  **on the subject of zero and eight, and magical synergy:**  
>  in cartomancy (playing card) readings and most tarot decks, the number 8 is often used as a symbol for fullness and 'forever', owing to its appearance as a sideways infinity sign. zero and infinity, while also being opposites, are also sometimes considered reciprocals in higher levels of math, particularly when in use for determining limits with substitutions and derivations (i.e. 1/∞=0, 1/0=a nonexistent limit, continuation through ∞). i can't imagine there would be no magi-mathematical meaning whatsoever, in a world where spells are applied through (presumably arithmantic) spell circles.
> 
> let's call it... a coincidence of names.


End file.
